Sunday, November 6, 2011

On The Path To Wow

On the Path to Wow

Leaving the post office after mailing a few Halloween cards, I turned into the roundabout that clasps our city center and spied him. Sitting on a small hill to the right of the library, his goatee twitching as he focused his gaze like a spotlight on the four tall cryptomeria trees that stand sentinel around the town fountain. Bert. The worker bee responsible for the design and execution of our city’s annual metamorphosis out of the ordinary world and into a wonderland of fairy lights, candy canes and Christmas trees. Glancing over my shoulder I could now easily see the two city trucks, full of ladders and lights, sitting on ready to begin the festive work.

Christmas Lights? Really? Well, I suppose, considering that it takes them several weeks to complete this task, and taking into account that the lights will be switched on in less that 30 days.... no doubt this is taking place precisely on schedule.

It seemed that everywhere I went that day people were shaking their heads at the speed in which the calendar pages were turning.

“I can’t believe it’s almost November”, said the lady at the cleaners as she handed me my favourite black blazer, the jam stain now removed from its cuff.

“Where did the summer go?”, asked the grey-haired gentleman who pushed his cart alongside mine as we both stocked up on Halloween candy.

Where indeed?

Later that afternoon, Edward and I were strolling along on our afternoon walk, our pathway strewn with the fallen scarlet maple leaves of autumn. I thought back to this same pathway in April, when the first hopeful tulips stood, new-baby pink and arrow straight, in garden after garden. I remembered our twilight walks of July, when the heady fragrance of honeysuckle and rose seemed virtually woven into the heavy humid air. I recalled our bundled up rambles in January when the colours of the day were charcoal and silver and our breath turned to fog right before us.

Cliche as it sounds, it seemed like only yesterday.

As I followed along behind Edward, I considered the now disappearing year, and it occurred to me, once again, that the natural world gives all we need to know about life - its calendar blending seamlessly with the seasons of our own existence - from carefree springtime to contemplative fall. We are all on a pathway of sorts, one often so crowded and noisy we sometimes find it hard to see all the wonders we are passing by.

There are those who hold their faces up to the sun, their ears tuned to bird song, their eyes trained for beauty.

There are those who rush along, forever looking down.

Uphill. Downhill.

There are times when we all walk alone.

Some of us can only see miles and miles of colour stretching out endlessly before us like a napping rainbow - the grass greens of May, the golds of September. Some of us - squinting perhaps, our hand over our disbelieving eyes to see a bit better in the light of the sun - can almost spot the point where the pathway might end.

Like most of the world, I was sorry to see the departure of the visionary, Steve Jobs. His remarkable journey ended far too soon. Tears pricked my eyes when I read of his last words. Looking past his family, into the space behind them, he was heard to say,

“Oh wow. Oh wow. Oh wow”.

No matter where we are in the journey, be it winter or spring, those are the words I believe we all will be saying when our pathway runs out. And from Halloween candy to Christmas lights, I mean to enjoy the ride.

Hello Pamela:We feel that it is one of life's greatest luxuries to have the time to stand and stare without having to perform to an imposed rhythm of work. How charmingly you describe here the beauty of Nature and the simplicities of everyday life and the usual dealings with ordinary people. There is such splendour in the mundane, it is just a question of opening the eyes to have a closer look and thinking differently.

What a beautifully written tribute to life, this year and the seasons. This morning on walk/run on the beach I was reminding myself to be aware of the sounds of the waves and shorebirds.Thank you for shining a light on todayHelen xx

Lovely Autumnal post Pamela. Nobody does Christmas better than you do over there, so I am not surprised that it starts early.Yes, we do all take a road through life and we also (as Robert Frost so wisely said) leave some roads untaken. Living in the country it is easy in day to day life to appreciate the tiny changes but I am sure it is possible in the town too except that some folk are in too much of a hurry - sad for them.

This beautiful, thoughtful piece of writing is very close to my own thoughts right now. Thank you, dear Pamela. Don't you think it's the end of the year (as Christmas approaches) that we are mostly likely to notice how quickly time has flown? The contemplative season, indeed.

I recently changed my blog header/post; after months of being stuck on "summer," it felt so good to become more attuned with the season.

I had the same reaction when I heard about Steve Job's last words. My Steve and I have made changes in our life to reflect our appreciation for the limited time with have. We want to appreciate every moment.Reading your posts is a wonderful way to spend some of those moments. They always help me to keep perspective.

There really should be a law about no winter holiday lights before Thanksgiving, but it sounds like your town waits to flip the switch. Speaking of switches, I love how you capture the change of season in this post, ending it all with James Taylor makes me smile. I was thinking of the Circle Game by Joni Mtichell but you already blogged about that one. I love that photo too. Now off into the morning frost for me.

Pam, I just found your blog...glad to have seen you Saturday night and now connecting here. (this is Judi) The photo you used was a card that I gave Butch within the first year of our marriage...heading into the woods together. We still have it. Love the image and the thoughts of the cycle. Yes! it's all right there for our observation and discovery.

I love to read your comments! Each and every one! Though I'm always reading your comments, I may not respond in the comment section. If you want to write me directly, you may do so at pamela@pamelaterry.net. Thank you for reading!

About Me

Writer, Interior Designer, Baker, Knitter, Gardener, devoted to Beauty.. on the journey through life along with her big white furry wonderful dog... living in the American South and dreaming of the Scottish Highlands